


Three Days Until Forever

by Syrum



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Childhood Friends, Fluff, Kid Fic, M/M, Marriage, No Beta, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, kid Bokuto - Freeform, kid Kuroo, we die like punctured volleyballs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-11-02 10:27:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20714378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syrum/pseuds/Syrum
Summary: What if Kuroo and Bokuto first met one another at a much younger age?Also, there's a wedding.The sports camp was only three days long, but at seven years old that might as well have been forever for the two of them.  They ran and played and hid, they sprinted down the track neck-and-neck, they tried out the long jump - Kōtarō could jump further, which Tetsurō thought was only fair really since he was faster at track and that made them almost even.





	Three Days Until Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Woo another one yeah! And kidfic, apparently. I never write kidfic. It's heckin adorable though, I think all my teeth have fallen out with how cute this was to write.

Had he been just a handful of years older, and moderately less shy, Kuroo Tetsurō’s grasp of the situation - and the language used - might well have been quite different. As it was, at seven years old with scruffy hair and clothes a size too large - _ you’ll grow into them, _his mother had said - all Tetsurō could do was blush and stare at the taller boy with the shock of white hair and piercing golden eyes that made his tummy feel strange and his heart beat too fast.

Bokuto Kōtarō was pretty. Not pretty in the way that Miki-chan in class 4-C was, with her long, silky hair that was blacker even than the sky at night, and her sparkling brown eyes. At nine years old, she had been asked out by all of the boys and most of the girls in the school at _ least _ once, and had said no every single time.

Bokuto Kōtarō was cute. Not in the way Leo-kun in class 2-A was though, with his round cheeks dusted with freckles, and his shoulder-length brown hair that the other kids liked to braid for him. Tetsurō could remember how the older boys would pick on Leo-kun, back when they were first years and so, so much littler than they were now. But Leo-kun was too nice, so the bullying stopped pretty quickly. And besides; he knew jiu jitsu.

No, Bokuto Kōtarō was pretty and cute in all the other ways. All the ways Tetsurō hadn’t known existed before that point, as a small, chubby hand thrust itself forwards in offering and Tetsurō could do nothing but stare and stare and _ stare, _until the blinding smile seemed to drop a little and he remembered what manners were, grasping the offered hand a little too tightly.

“Let’s be friends.” And that was all it took. Kōtarō wasn’t a princess, and he wasn’t an action hero, and he wasn’t a model but he was _ perfect _ and Tetsurō knew he would never, ever love anyone as much as he loved Kōtarō - even when he got to be twelve years old and moved up to the big school, he would never love anyone else. He _ wouldn’t, _ and when he told Kōtarō as much the taller boy laughed, delighted, and called him his best friend.

The sports camp was only three days long, but at seven years old that might as well have been _ forever _ for the two of them. They ran and played and hid, they sprinted down the track neck-and-neck, they tried out the long jump - Kōtarō could jump further, which Tetsurō thought was only fair really since he was faster at track and that made them almost even. They played football, basketball, tennis and, finally, volleyball, always together and always grinning from ear to ear as the other kids became little more than background noise.

Tetsurō liked the football and the running best - he was good at them, he was fast, why wouldn’t he like them? But then some of the bigger kids started to get rowdy on the pitch, and suddenly football wasn’t so fun for him any more. Kōtarō preferred the basketball and the volleyball. They both agreed that tennis sucked, and hid behind the storage shed so that the camp counsellors couldn’t find them when they accidentally upset the box holding all of the tennis balls, sending them skittering around the court.

At night, they shared a futon, huddling together with hushed giggles and whispers of secrets in the dark that only make sense to children. They both missed home, but that was okay, because they were together and that was what mattered.

Three days was up much, much too quickly. Tetsurō tried not to cry when his mother arrived to pick him up, refusing to let go of Kōtarō’s hand until he absolutely _ had _ to, and even then prolonging the contact to the point of stretching his mother’s patience.

He was a _ big boy _ now. And big boys didn’t cry.

Kōtarō had no such restraint - fat tears rolled down his cheeks and he sniffled wetly, gripping so tightly that Tetsurō’s fingers went a little numb. When Kōtarō’s parents finally tugged him away, hushing him softly, he resolutely stared back over his shoulder at Tetsurō - right up until he tripped over his own feet and would have fallen if not for his father’s hand holding him up. Tetsurō giggled, and finally let himself be led away, his mother’s hand large and warm and comforting around his own.

The car smelt so familiar, and it felt like years since Tetsurō had been dropped off at camp, small and alone and more than a little bit scared. He buckled himself in as his mother slid into the driver’s seat, slotting the keys into the ignition before finding her own seatbelt.

“You made a friend.” She sounded so pleased, so _ proud, _ and warmth spread across Tetsurō’s chest as he beamed up at her.

“His name is Bokuto Kōtarō and he’s my _ other _ best friend.” He replied happily, bouncing a little in his seat as his mother started the ignition, excited to get home and tell Kenma all about his weekend. “And,” he continued, when his mother only hummed in response as they pulled out of the car park, “when we’re grown up, I’m gonna _ marry _ him.”

His mother’s face did something strange at that, though it quickly smoothed out into her usual pleasant smile. Reaching over, she ruffled his hair and Tetsurō squawked as he wriggled away, earning a laugh. “As long as you’re happy, sweetheart.” She finally replied and, for the first time in what felt like forever, Tetsurō really was.

* * *

“I’m so proud of you.” Tetsurō beamed down at his mother, having overtaken her in height in his early teens. She was adjusting the front of his suit jacket, smoothing her hands over the rented fabric as it lay flat against his chest, eyes shimmering and he knew it wouldn’t be long before she was outright crying. “Just look at you, all grown up and still following your dreams.”

“Come on, let’s take our seats.” His grandmother tugged at his mother’s arm, leading her away and offering Tetsurō a smile of her own.

“Ready?” Kenma finally asked, once they were alone, fiddling with his cufflinks.

“I’ve been ready for the past twenty years.” Tetsurō beamed down at his best friend, earning a small smile in response. “I feel like I should be nervous.”

“I feel like you should be too.” Kenma agreed, swatting at Tetsurō’s hand when he tried to reach out to ruffle his hair. “You look good, don’t make him wait too long.”

“As if I would.” With a huff of laughter, Kenma was gone and Tetsurō was left standing, alone, with the gentle melody of a piano filtering through into the small waiting room.

The music changed. It was time.

All eyes were on Tetsurō as he took slow, measured steps towards the altar. Towards Kōtarō, who turned to watch his approach, mouth splitting into a happy grin as fat tears rolled down his cheeks, golden eyes shining. Because of _ course _he was crying already, emotions he had never really learned how to control brimming over. And if Tetsurō was starting to get a little misty eyed as well when Kōtarō reached out and took his hand, well - no one else needed to know.

Bokuto Kōtarō was pretty. Bokuto Kōtarō was cute. And, as Tetsurō scrawled his looping signature at the foot of the marriage licence, Bokuto Kōtarō was finally _ his. _

**Author's Note:**

> I made a Discord (literally just now) because Tumblr chat hates me - https://discord.gg/vaANQ6A come join me.


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